


The Worst Thing Ever . . . Probably

by bbcphile



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Anachronistic, Banter, Enemies to Friends, Female Friendship, Humor, Meta, Pre-Slash, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8880268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbcphile/pseuds/bbcphile
Summary: When Galavant, Gareth, and Richard disappear due to a magical artifact incident, Isabella and Madalena have to set aside their hatred and rescue them--with Sid's help, of course.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akamarykate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamarykate/gifts).



> This story takes place immediately before Season 2 episode 6 ("About Last Night") and thereby becomes canon divergent.

“At last, we’ve found it! The cave of Grandorlf the Grand, third most powerful sorcerer in the realms! Our victory is so near I can almost taste it! I’m coming my love! Hold on!”

Galavant turned around in front of the rune-covered door inexplicably carved into the side of a mountain and spread his arms out wide, striking the hero’s pose as the music started to swell.

“Just for the record, I’d like to point out that this is a horrible idea.”

Galavant turned around to glare at Roberta. “Um, no, this is in fact a stunningly brilliant idea. The legend of this adventure will be passed down in song for centuries to come.”

Roberta raised an eyebrow. “You said that last time. And then we had to run away from the giant bees. So perhaps we should not disturb the door with ‘Knock at your peril’ carved into it.”

Galavant glared at her. “Of the two of us, which has more experience being a hero?”

Roberta scoffed. “Of the two of us, who ended the war between the giants and the dwarfs, hunted and prepared every meal we’ve had for months, and got you and Richard to stop arguing before you got each other or all of us killed?”

Galavant opened his mouth to respond, then shut it, crossing his arms. “I’m having an off month.”

Roberta raised an eyebrow.

“Few months. But that doesn't mean I’m wrong now. We have tried to hire every army or band of mercenaries within the nearest two realms, and we are running out of time. Grandorlf’s our last chance of rescuing Isabella. So, we’re going in.”

Roberta frowned. “And I’m supposed to just--”

“Oooh, what are these fancy carvings?” Richard asked, arm extended as he walked to join them from behind the tree a few yards away.

“No,” Galavant said immediately. “Don't. Don’t even move. Stay right there”

“What?” Richard asked, dropping his arm with a hurt expression. “I can't be curious?”

“No. You can’t,” Galavant responded. “Why don't you go back to your tree and explain fire to Tad Cooper again? I’m sure you'll get through to him eventually.”

“He’s sleeping. My last explanation wore him out. So, where do we start?”

Galavant counted to five internally and tried not to throttle Richard or the lizard. “Tell you what. Why don't you wait out here and keep a sharp lookout? If you see any armies that look like they want to kill us, then you can come and tell us.”

Richard’s face lit up. “ I love this part! All of us, working together, having our own tasks? This is fun, right?”

“That’s . . . not exactly the word I’d use to describe this. Roberta, follow me.”

Before Roberta could answer, Galavant knocked three times on the door, which vanished before them in a puff of orange smoke.

“Enter” boomed a low voice that ricocheted off the cave walls.

“Oooh, spooky!” Richard said.

Galavant and Roberta exchanged glances, readied themselves, then walked into the dark, cold cavern.

***

"And here we have my Heroicals™ line, Magical Gear for the Hero in a Hurry™," Grandorlf intoned, gesturing at a showcase in his display cave. "Eight-league boots, flying carpets, and of course, my latest artifact, the GPS!" He held up a thin rectangular gold disk.

Galavant blinked. "GPS?"

"The Gratuitous Plot Savior!” the wizard exclaimed. "It can tell you how to get from where you are now to anywhere you need to go for the narrative in the fewest number of words! Particularly useful for fic exchanges when you’re under a time crunch."

Roberta frowned. "We already know where we're going, and how to get there. I don't think we need directions."

"What about that?" asked Galavant, pointing to a recess in the wall where a thin beam of light illuminated a vibrant emerald sitting atop a glittering gold pedestal.

"Ah, yes, the Great Gem of TATU," replied Grandorlf.

"Oh, I love Tatoo!" exclaimed Richard, startling them all. "I vacationed there when I was a child! Endless sand dunes, quaint little moisture farms. I remember there was a station that sold these lovely power converters, what was it called again?"

Grandorlf coughed loudly. "I think perhaps you're thinking of a different genre," he said coldly.

"Richard, I thought you were keeping watch!" Galavant said with a warning glare.

Richard shrugged. "Well, I was, but there's really nothing interesting out there but a bunch of trees, so I thought I'd see what you're doing in here." He walked up to the emerald. "This is a very shiny rock!"

"The Great Gem of TATU is the most powerful artifact in existence!" said Grandorlf testily. "Simply speak the code phrase, and it will grant you your deepest desire! But alas, it can only be used once, in the time of greatest need, and so it is Too Awesome To Use. We have let it sit unmolested through the sorcerers' rebellion of 1215, let it lie undisturbed through the conquering of the three realms--"

“Yes, yes, of course,” Galavant said impatiently. “But surely, raising an army to rescue my true love must be a worthy enough cause, so if you'll just tell us the code phrase we'll be on our way.”

Roberta raised her eyebrow. “More worthy than stopping a plague? Or preventing another sorcerers' war?”

Galavant paused. “Well, at least a close second.”

Grandorlf shook his head, his white beard rustling with the movement. “I am sorry, Sir Galavant, but I cannot permit you to use its power.”

"Isn't it a little powerful to be just sitting out here?" asked Roberta. "I mean, what if the wrong person got their hands on it?"

"It's entirely useless without the secret password known only to the few great sorcerers of the land," replied Grandorlf, "and besides, who would be foolish enough to steal anything from the heart of a sorcerer's own lair?" He gestured, and the Heroicals™ showcase vanished, replaced by a new case full of swords and daggers. "Now, if you're looking for an extra edge in combat, we have--"

As the wizard continued his sales pitch, Richard poked the emerald with one finger. "Do you know," he said, “This is shaped a little like my favorite teddy bear’s nose. Of course, by the time I was five, I’d scratched all the fur off it.”

The world went white.

***

The cave was gone. In its place was an absurdly lavish castle’s great hall, with multi-colored tapestries depicting great military battles, tables spread with quail and pheasant and wild boar, and gold goblets that sparkled in the candlelight, and crowds of people in their finery milling about.

“What the ****ing **** just ****ing happened?”

Galavant whirled around to see Gareth standing behind him, his sword drawn, looking more than a little furious and spooked.

“Gareth! Buddy! What are you doing here?” Richard threw his arms around Gareth before Gareth could stop him. “Oh, and, where is here, exactly?”

“Seize them,” declaimed a man with a ridiculously booming voice and elegant velvet purple robes. Within seconds, guards had restrained the three of them. The man--must be the king with a crown that large--stormed over to where they stood. “How dare you apparate within these walls? Magic has been forbidden in the kingdom of Camenot for these last 300 years! You will be executed in two days’ time. And may God have mercy on your souls. Guards? Throw them in the dungeon.”

“I’m afraid there’s been some misunderstanding,” Galavant called out as the guards dragged them away. “We don't have magic. We don’t even know what we’re doing here.”

The King scoffed. “A likely story. Take them away.”

The guards dragged them off.

“What the bloody hell is goin’ on?” Gareth spat out as five guards pushed him along the corridor. “One moment I was talking with Madalena about the executions we had scheduled for the day, and the next moment, I found myself here with you.”

“No idea,” Richard responded. “I saw this lovely green stone and touched it, and the next moment, here we all were! Exciting, isn't it?”

Galavant craned his neck around to try to glare at Richard. “It was a magic gem, you moron! How was this your great wish?”

Richard brightened. “Oh, this is GREAT! I’ll finally get a guys’ night in with my Gal Pal and my biffle!”

Galavant closed his eyes. “Terrific,” he muttered. “Just terrific.”

***

_Ten minutes earlier . . ._

“But Queenie, I really think we should--”

Gareth disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

Madalena sat perfectly still on her throne, staring at the spot that had previously contained Gareth. She was the Queen. She was in control. She was not going to panic or give in to any of the strange and sudden awkward sensations this was causing. She forced herself not to shudder at the idea of feelings. Those were for other people. The fact of the matter was this: someone had taken someone she . . . valued --no, not cared for, of course not cared for, that would be ridiculous--and she would get him back. And then kill the person who had kidnapped him in the first place. Brutally. With a great deal of pleasure.

“Guards? Saddle my horse.” She stormed up to her room. She was on a mission, and nothing in the world would stop her.

***

_Twenty minutes later . . ._

Armed with daggers and a sword or three, Madalena rode into the town on her way to the castle gates. She had decided to leave her troops behind: she didn’t much care for the way they looked at her when they thought she wasn’t watching. And anyway, if you need something done, do it yourself. No need to rely on these rot-for-brains peons. So the plan was simple:

Step 1: find food. Step 2: take food.

She stopped by the castle’s trail mix-ologist to commandeer a few bags and was trying to decide if she wanted to kill him for taking too long to prepare her order, when she heard a quiet, muffled squeak of panic that sounded different from the normal noises of terror the vendor was making. She looked around, frowning, then bent down to look under the cart.

Sid’s frightened eyes stared back at her.

She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out.

“Oh . . . um . . . hi, my Queen. You know, all that stuff I said earlier . . . I was just kidding. Didn’t mean it at all. Just joking around with Gareth. Because he’s my buddy. And that’s what friends do . . . so please don’t kill me!”

She inspected him, her eyes narrowed. He had insulted her, so she should kill him and never give it a second thought.

But, Gareth liked him.

Gareth had moped last night because he couldn’t go to that silly joust with Sid. He’d probably mope more if Sid died. Perhaps Sid would be useful to have along.

And if not, she could always use him as a human shield.

“And would you go on a quest for your ‘friend’?”

Sid stood up straighter, his own fear for his life more or less forgotten. “Has something happened to Gareth? Where is he?”

She glanced around to make sure the peasants weren’t listening. If word got out that the King had disappeared, there might be mayhem. “He’s off on a secret mission. And we’re going to join him.”

She looked to her left and saw the trail mix-ologist's horse calmly munching grass behind the stall. She put her sword up to vendor’s throat. “We’ll take that horse. And another two bags of trail mix.”

***

_Five hours later . . ._

Isabella dismounted and led her horse over to the sign. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” she said to the guard on her left. “I don’t remember having been here before.”

The guard shook his head. “Well, Princess, we just followed you on the way over. Every time we came to a fork in the road, your pupils would dilate, your eyes would spin, and you’d tell us which way we should go.”

Isabella glared. “And of course none of you thought to bring directions.”

The guard shook his head. “No, Princess.”

She forced herself not to snap at him for his lack of foresight. He was just following orders. And surely there wasn’t a protocol for what to do if the princess that was engaged to an underage prince had been brainwashed into being a puppet of an evil wedding planner and warlock. And into being a supporter of the wedding-industrial complex. She frowned, unsure which was worse.

She shook her head to refocus. She was a warrior princess, in control of her mind and body once more, with people depending on her. She marched over to the signpost and examined it. “Hmm. The Forest of Coincidence. I don’t remember having heard of this before. If only I had a map of the area. . .”

At that moment, a voice called out behind them. “Maps! Maps for sale! Come buy your maps.”

Isabella spun around, eyes narrowed, then approached the merchant. “Do you have a map of this entire region?”

The map merchant nodded. “We have a number of different models of magical maps, covering Forest of Coincidence, Valencia, Hortensia, and Camenot. Seer-A is our cheapest version: shows you where you are at all times. Seer-B shows you up-to-the-minute kingdom boundaries, so you’ll never be caught trespassing. Model E is our fanciest version, comes with GPS technology built-in.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that,” Isabella said with a nod. “Model E it is. How does it work?”

***

_Three hours later . . ._

“We should have gone left there,” Sid insisted.

“No, we’ve crossed over into the Forest of Coincidence,” Madalena shot back as they rode past a signpost. “This is the way to ‘Rising Action Falls.’ Beyond the Falls lies the tower of Dumbleporch, the second greatest sorcerer in the five realms.”

Sid pulled on his reins and the horse stopped moving forward. “Why not go see the greatest sorcerer?”

Madalena glared at the road. “Copyright infringement.”

Sid blinked. “But you’re the queen. Can’t you just change the-"

Madalena cut him off with a gesture as they heard a rustle from beyond the trees ahead. “What was that?”

“Dinner,” Madalena whispered, drawing her sword and dismounting from her horse. They crept through the overgrown vines and leaves that lay before them until all that separated them from their prey was a thick wall of bushes. They peered out through between the gaps in the leaves to see a familiar woman, pouring over a yellowed parchment.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Madalena groaned.

“Isabella!” Sid yelled, leaping the bush to run to her.

Isabella looked up in surprise, then ran toward him, dropping the parchment she was holding on the ground in the process. “Sid! I thought I’d never see you again!”

“I’m so happy to see you, too!” He glanced around, then frowned. “But, where’s your entourage?”

Isabella sighed. “They got eaten by bears an hour ago. What are you doing here?”

“We’re on a quest to save Gareth!” Sid volunteered.

Isabella’s eyes opened wide. “We? Is Galavant with you?”

Sid’s face fell. “Ah. No. um, Isabella, you remember Madalena, right?”

Madalena scowled. This was not the grand entrance she’d envisioned. She straightened up from where she had crouched behind the bush, ready to spring into battle. Isabella glared at her, then glanced up, inspecting the top of her head with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Madalena’s hand shot up to the crown of her head, and small twigs and leaves rasped against her fingers. She wrenched them off her head, threw them on the ground, and forced herself to stand proud and tall, head raised, to look every bit the queen she now was, rather than the peasant people always saw. “Isabella. Not dead, I see.”

“Despite your best efforts, yes,” Isabella responded, ineffectually drawing herself up to her full height, her hand going to the sword at her hip.

Madalena stepped over the hedge as gracefully as she could as she reached for her own weapon. “I can fix that.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Isabella spat out as she whipped out her sword.

“Then you’re about to get lucky.” Madalena adjusted her stance and pointing her own sword at Isabella, her entire body thrumming with a desire to fight, to push, to pin her against a tree, to--

“Woah! No! No, we don’t want to do that,” Sid said, jumping between them with his eyes squeezed shut, his arms raised in front of him as though his outstretched palms were swordproof.

Isabella pulled her sword away immediately. “And why not?”

“Because we’re on a quest to rescue Gareth. He’s vanished and we’re trying to find him.”

Isabella looked from Sid to Madalena, then back to Sid. “Why would we want to find Gareth?”

Madalena flushed and tried to hide it. “Me? Like Gareth? Of course not. That would be absurd. We just rule together. It would be bad for the kingdom if he were killed.”

Isabella put her free hand on her hip. “Since when do you care for the good of the kingdom? My kingdom, I might add.”

Sid jumped in before Madalena could retaliate. “Gareth may have made some mistakes in the past. But he’s a friend. The only one I’ve had for the last few months. Can you help us?”

Isabella frowned, then cast a glance over her shoulder at her entourage. “I have my own situation to deal with. I have to banish an evil sorcerer from Hortensia.”

Madalena grinned slowly. “An evil sorcerer?”

“NO!” Sid and Isabella yelled in unison.

Madalena put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean, no? Gareth was taken by magic, therefore, we should use magic to track him and bring him back.”

Isabella shook her head. “Not this one. Wormwood wouldn’t help anyone but himself. And anyway, he’s obsessed with weddings. Unless you’re planning on marrying Gareth any time soon--”

“Absolutely not. Ugh,” Madalena responded, laughing and wondering why her heart was beating more quickly. “That would be the worst. We just rule together. That’s all.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes at Madalena. “Uh huh. So, no evil sorcerer then?”

“No wedding planner,” Madalena agreed.

“So, what was your plan before we ran into each other?” Isabella asked.

“We were going to find Dumbleporch and ask for advice,” Sid said.

Isabella frowned, then stooped to pick up the yellowed parchment and unrolled it, squinting at the faded ink. “Then what are you doing here? This is us” she said, pointing to a spot on the document. “This,” she said, dragging her finger along a path halfway across the map in the opposite direction from Valencia, “is where Dumbleporch lives.”

Sid turned and glared at Madalena, crossing his arms across his chest. “See? This is why people should listen to me more. I don’t understand why everyone always cuts me --”

“Fine. So what do you suggest?” Madalena interrupted, turning to face Isabella.

Isabella turned and was about to gesture to the map in answer, when she paused, frowned, and rolled up the map again. “Why I should help you? You tried to kill me, took over my kingdom, and killed most of our citizens. I finally have my life on track again, and, as much as I hate my exile and my new home, I have an engagement to break off and a new life to lead. I have no interest in being dragged back into that entire miserable chapter of my life.”

Sid’s face scrunched up in confusion. “You’re breaking up with Galavant?”

Isabella gripped her sword’s hilt more tightly. “No. He broke it off with me.”

Madalena grinned. “Good to see he still has SOME sense.”

Isabella took a step towards her, starting to draw her sword, when Sid interrupted.

“No, that can’t be right. Are you sure there’s not some misunderstanding?”

Isabella rolled her eyes. “It would be hard to misinterpret ‘Die in a fart, brown cow.’”

Madalena stopped smirking and Sid froze in place.

Isabella looked between them, eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Galavant never makes fart jokes,” Sid explained.

Isabella looked to Madalena, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, fine,” Madalena said after a moment. “Sid’s right. That doesn’t sound like Gal.”

Isabella deflated slightly. “Oh.” She paused. “He better have a damn good explanation for this, then.”

Sid nodded. “I’m sure he will. He’s good at those.” He paused. “I wonder where he is?”

Isabella brightened visibly. “We can use the GPS!” she said, unrolling the map.

Madalena frowned. “What are you yammering about?”

“The map! We can ask it where Galavant is, and it will show us the quickest route to him.”

Sid frowned and leaned in close. “Isn’t that cheating?” he stage whispered.

Isabella raised an eyebrow. “Do you want us to finish this story or not?”

Sid nodded and leaned back. “Good point.”

Isabella closed her eyes and took a deep breath to prepare herself. “Right.” She opened her eyes and pressed the pad of her thumb over the letter “G” in “GPS” which was prominently displayed under the title of the map. “Seer-e? Navigate to Galavant?”

After a moment, the words “Navigating to The Elephant Inn” appeared on the parchment in elegant calligraphy.

Isabella rolled her eyes and shook the map to clear it. “No, not ‘elephant’, Galavant! Navigate to Sir Gal-a-vant!”

The words “Navigating to Sir Galavant” appeared, then the map glowed yellow as a red path formed from the “You are Here” footprint to a spot that was a day and a half’s ride away.

“It worked!” Sid gasped, his mouth hanging open.

“Show me Gareth,” Madalena yelled.

Nothing changed.

“Maybe you have to say it,” Sid suggested to Isabella.

Isabella frowned. “Seer-e? How do I get to Gareth?”

The text changed to “Navigating to Sir Gareth,” but the line stayed the same.

“Maybe it’s broken?” Sid suggested.

“Seer-e? How do I get to Hortensia?” Isabella asked.

The expected route burned red.

“Ok, so, not broken,” Sid said.

“Seer-e? How do I get to Gareth?” Isabella asked again.

The original path lit up.

Madalena frowned. “So, they’re together?”

Isabella nodded. “So it appears. I guess they’ve both been captured.”

Sid looked between them, grinning as though he had just been knighted. “Does that mean you’ll come with us?”

Isabella looked at Sid’s eager face, then at Madalena’s, only slightly less hostile than it had been twenty minutes earlier. She sighed. “Yes, fine. I’ll join you.” She glanced at the map again and peered at the tiny handwritten words the line crossed over. “To Rising Action Falls, then.”

Madalena grimaced. Of course they had to work together: there was no other way she could get that map and rescue Gareth. But she’d spent much of the past year imagining all the ways she would kill Isabella. Anything else just seemed . . . wrong.

Well, maybe she could kill Isabella after they rescue Gareth.

***

They walked along the riverbed, the roaring of the water cascading over rocks growing louder with every step, until they came to the base of Rising Action Falls itself.

Isabella glanced at the GPS. The little red footprint representing them hadn’t moved in the last thirty minutes, but here they were, in front of the Falls. Where we they supposed to cross over the water? She shook the map, hoping it would update their position, but nothing happened.

“What’s wrong now?” Madalena grouched.

“The map’s crashed.”

Madalena rolled her eyes. “Of course it has. If you’d just given it to me--”

“For the last time, we’re not letting you hold the map,” Isabella responded. “You’d probably just run off with it, or wait and then murder us in our sleep.”

Madalena scoffed. “I’ve forgotten what sleep is after the way you snore.”

“That’s not fair, she has a --”

“Deviated septum, I know, I know. But it’s her problem; I shouldn’t have to pay the price for it.”

“You’re one to talk,” Isabella added, hands on her hips, “with the way your feet smell--”

“Oookay, okay, that’s enough,” Sid jumped in, as Madalena’s hand went for her sword. “Let’s just take a nice, relaxing time out, listen to the water, maybe do a trust exercise or two--”

“A trust exercise? With her?” Isabella huffed in irritation. “I think we all know where trusting her has gotten us. I’m on this mission to rescue Galavant, Sid, not to become besties with her.” She glared at Madalena, then sat on a large rock by the edge of the water.

Madalena rolled her eyes and sat on a rock facing away from Isabella. “I didn’t get to be Queen by trusting people. I’m not about to start now.”

“Right. No trust exercises, then.” Sid stood awkwardly between them, waiting for someone to say something, before giving up and grabbing a bag of trail mix out of the saddlebag. He dumped some into his hand, then handed the rest of the bag to Isabella.

She glanced at the bag, then made a face. “More trail mix? Aren’t you sick of that from our last journey?”

Sid shrugged. “At least we can eat the raisins this time.”

Madalena snorted. “So Galavant still pulls his whole ‘heroes get the raisins’ shtick?”

“Well, he did start sharing eventually. It only took a few months.”

“A few months of you, Princess. I’ve been his squire for ages, and I’d never seen him let someone else have the raisins.”

Isabella smiled, remembering his face when he first tossed her the bag of trail mix and told her that he’d saved some for her. He was so--

She shook her head. He had abandoned her and broken her heart, and she was not going to start getting sentimental just because someone brought up raisins. She should focus on the things Galavant did that drove her crazy so she didn’t miss him. Like his drinking. Or his poor bathing habits. Or the fact that he--

“He always had to be right. About everything. God, it was so annoying,” Madalena said with a scowl.

Isabella blinked. She had just been thinking that. “But . . . he’d started to get better. . ."

“Really? You mean, when he insisted he had everything under control, and then got totally sloshed with Richard and they announced to the entire kingdom that Richard planned to kill his brother?”

“Well, no, I meant--”

“Or, when he could have fought all the guards and broken you out of prison, but volunteered to fight in a duel instead?”

“No, but--”

“What about when he sang about his ‘Moment in the Sun’ instead of fighting or escaping, or kissing you?”

“Now, hang on--”

“Didn’t you get tired of always having to listen to his hairbrained plans, of having to make backup plans for when his plans fell apart? Of his constant need for praise? His compulsion to show off that he’s the smartest and the bravest in the room? Of his only acknowledging your existence when he could cast you as the helpless, innocent, precious lady to his loyal knight? It was so stifling.”

Isabella opened her mouth to disagree: to defend Galavant the way she’d been defending him against her parents, against Sid, against the jester, Chef, and Gwynne, against . . . well, everyone. But she couldn’t really think of a single rational rebuttal. Maybe it was the residual effects of the brainwashing? Or she was just tired and cranky. Madalena had always irrationally set her teeth on edge. She should defend Galavant. After all, Madalena had destroyed her kingdom, killed most of the people she cared about, imprisoned her, and hurt the man she loved.

“How can you speak about him like that? He loved you and you broke his heart!”

Madalena was silent for a moment. “He didn’t love me. He loved the idea of me. He just wanted someone to save. And unfortunately for him, I don’t need saving.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say!”

Madalena rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a horrible person.” She stood up and stretched, then paused. “But if by some miracle, you do get back together, I’ll give it six months before he’ll want to put you on a pedestal so high that you’ll have to choice but to suffocate or shatter his heart. And then we’ll see what you think of me.”

Isabella stared at her, desperate to reject everything she’d heard, but unable to think of anything to say.

“So, tiny tot,” Madalena said after a moment of silence, “which way?”

Isabella blinked, her brain suddenly coming back under her control. “Er, right.” She glanced at the map, which had finally caught up with them, and then squinted at the route. “It looks like there’s a bit of a detour; we need to cross the water here at the base of the waterfall, then go straight for the next two hours or so until we reach climax mountain.”

“Two hours. Great.”

Isabella and Sid stood up, and the three of them led their horses across the river in silence, the crashing of water against the rocks the only music that accompanied them.

***

_Seven hours later . . ._

“So, we have to go in there, then?” Sid asked, eyeing the castle, its drawbridge, and portcullis with a heavy dose of distrust. “What is this place?”

“Camenot Castle,” Isabella said, staring at the parchment. “They must be in the famous Denouement Dungeon. No one’s ever successfully escaped it before.”

“Then what are you losers waiting for?” Madalena flounced off and headed toward the castle entrance.

“Madalena, wait!” Isabella ran after her.

Madalena rolled her eyes and stopped dramatically, her hands on her hips as she waited for Isabella to catch up. “What is it now?”

“We have to make a plan! We could sneak in during the dead of night! Or during the changing of the guard! One does not simply walk into Camenot.”

“Watch me.” Madalena took a step forward.

“Wait,” Isabella called out, grabbing her arm.

“Paws off, tiny tot,” Madalena growled.

Isabella let go, then hesitated. “Look, before you go charging in without a plan, can we talk?”

Madalena sighed. “You’re just going to talk no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

“I just need to know--why did you rescue me back there?”

“What?”

“You know, an hour ago, when I slipped at the most treacherous part of Climax Peak in the heart of the Offscreen Mountains while we were fighting the vast army of Rodents of Perfectly Ordinary Size, and would have plummeted to my death if you hadn’t grabbed my arm and pulled me back to safety? The scene that would have absolutely have been a fan favorite if it hadn’t needed to be cut due to time constraints?”

“Yes, of course I know. I was there, you moron. It was the most gripping, action-packed moment in the entirety of our quest, even topping the dance-off with the werewolf minstrels!”

“So . . . why did you do it?”

Madalena paused. Honestly, she had no idea. It didn’t give her power, or fame, or wealth, or beauty. Saving Isabella had served no useful purpose whatsoever. It would have been far better to just let her plummet to her death. But she hadn’t. And all she had to show for it was an obnoxiously earnest person interrogating her, a chipped nail, and three pounds of unappetizing rodent meat. And a strange feeling in her chest, sort of like heartburn. Must be from lunch.

“You have the map. Simple as that,” she responded, trying to sound bored.

“Oh. Right.” Isabella was watching her with a strange expression.

Madalena rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Of course not.”

“We’re still enemies.”

“Naturally.” Isabella said with a strange smile.

“And I’m going in the front entrance. I don’t do sneaking,” Madalena scoffed as she walked toward the door, shattering their moment.

Isabella sighed as she watched her walk on ahead. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Trusting Madalena?” Sid asked, coming up next to her. “Yeah, probably.”

***

_Twenty minutes later . . ._

“Wait right here, please, Queen Madalena,” the head guard entreated.

Madalena pushed past him and marched straight into the great hall filled with people, with Isabella and Sid trailing close behind. They had interrupted a feast, and everyone was staring at them. Madalena glanced around the room. The tapestries were nice. A bit dated. And everyone’s fashions were so last year. But the earrings some of the women were wearing were rather nice. She’d have to get some just like them. Or maybe she could just take them.

A man seated at the throne at the end of the table stood up, his elegant purple robe billowing behind him. The sun streaming in through the windows glinted off his golden crown. How was it shinier than hers?

“What’s the meaning of this interruption?” he barked, glaring at the three of them.

“I am Queen Madalena, and I demand that you release your prisoner Gareth, at once.”

“And I’m Princess Isabella of Valencia, and I demand that you release Sir Galavant immediately.”

The King’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline before he gained control of himself. “We’ll discuss this in the throne room. This way,” he said, and led them into the adjoining room and closed the door. Once they had all entered, he nodded to the head guard, who stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“Oh, thank God,” the King said as soon as they were alone. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

“What?” Isabella and Madalena asked at once.

“Please tell me you’ve come for King Richard, too?” the King begged.

Isabella, Madalena, and Sid looked at each other.

“Not really--”

“Nope--”

“Absolutely not--”

They answered as one.

The King’s face fell. “Damn. Can I just . . . throw him in as a package deal?”

“No offense, but, we really don’t want him,” Isabella explained.

“Wait, Gareth AND Richard are here? Gareth might want him to be released, too. He’s been feeling pretty guilty about the whole betrayal thing.”

“Well, in that case, I forbid you from leaving with Galavant and Gareth unless you take Richard as well,” the King declared.

“Why did you imprison him if you’re so desperate to get rid of him?” Sid asked.

The King sighed. “They just . . . appeared in the middle of our banquet the other day. No warning, just a puff of purple smoke, and then bam, there they were. Magic is illegal here. I had no choice but to lock them up. But they’ve been causing mayhem in the dungeon. Richard won’t shut up, and he and Galavant won’t stop arguing. Hardened criminals, who wouldn’t break, no matter what torture we devised, have been begging for us to just kill them already to put them out of their misery. Every guard we assign to a dungeon shift has quit the service within the hour. We’ve lost a fifth of our army in the last day and a half. Our executioner and assistant executioner just disappeared--I don’t think they could bear the idea of spending any more time with them, even if it was just to kill them. I couldn’t let them go on my own without losing face, but I couldn’t find someone to kill them, either. They’re destroying our penal and defense systems. Our whole kingdom might topple if we don’t let them go.

Madalena pursed her lips as she considered her options. “You know, on second thought, you can have them.” She started contemplating her redecorating strategies immediately. That old throne would have to go, obviously. Not nearly flashy enough.

“Not so fast,” Isabella insisted, pulling her sword out and pointing it at Madalena’s throat. “We had a deal, remember? Good King, we do humbly ask accept your terms and thank you for releasing all three prisoners into our care.”

Madalena started to reach for her hilt, but stopped when Isabella’s blade crept closer to her throat. She swallowed. “Fine.” She’d just have to wait until she and Gareth could conquer the kingdom together.

“Excellent!” The King looked like he was about five seconds away from breaking into a song and dance from excitement. He turned to the head guard. “Have the prisoners released and brought here at once. And give them three more horses and some food for their return journey.” He paused. “We wouldn’t want them to have to come back for anything.”

***

_An hour later . . ._

“Well, that was an adventure,” Richard said as he climbed into his saddle. “I’m so glad we had this time together. We’ve learned so much about each other, we’ve sung songs, we’ve--”

“Richard?” Galavant asked as he mounted his horse.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Are you sure we can’t kill any of ‘em now, Queenie?” Gareth asked quietly. “Not even one? What about that guard over there? No one would even notice, he so scrawny.”

Madalena shook her head. “They’ll keep. We’ll come back soon with our whole army. Did you have some time to scope out their defenses?”

Gareth nodded. “Got their guard rotation schedule and the weakest points of the castle. Should be pretty easy to take over. We can plan the attack tomorrow. Best birthday present ever.”

Madalena smiled. A war would make an excellent gift. She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Isabella’s obnoxiously perky voice distracted her.

“So, you really didn’t tell me to die in a brown fart?”

“No, of course not,” Galavant answered. “I never make fart jokes. I love you! I want to spend the rest of my life with you, in a little, secluded cottage by the sea, with all our children.”

Isabella hesitated. “A cottage?”

Galavant tilted his head at her. “Problem?”

“Not . . . as such. I’ve just really enjoyed all this adventuring. You don’t think a cottage by the seaside is a bit too . . . isolated?”

“But surely, my love, you want me to take you away from all of this?”

Isabella raised her eyebrows. “Galavant, I’m a warrior princess. I like it. Maybe one day, I’ll be ready to set it all aside--especially since I don’t have a kingdom at the moment--but that day isn’t today.”

Galavant frowned. “Oh.”

“And I did spend the last few months locked up in a jewelry box, thinking you’d dumped me, and then being brainwashed into almost marrying my cousin. I need a little time to adjust.”

“Oh.”

Isabella took his hand. “But, I do still want to give us a try.”

Galavant breathed a sigh of relief. “Ok, good.”

“See, Gal? You didn’t ruin everything with that one horrible kiss!” Richard called out.

“RICHARD!” everyone yelled.

At that moment, a black and white speckled carrier swallow flew down and perched on Richard’s horse’s head, squawking loudly. He reached forward, narrowly avoided being pecked by the creature, and untied the little scroll from around the bird’s leg and read it aloud:

“Dear Richard: Sorcerers declared war on you & Valencia for TATU misuse. You must raise army to defend kingdom. <3, Roberta. Tweet back ASAP.”

“Isn’t she great?” Richard said, grinning. “Fit all that information in only 140 characters. I’m impressed, I really am.”

“Wait, against Valencia, as well as your land? But, it wasn’t our fault,” Madalena insisted.

“Maybe the council of Sorcerers didn’t know that you two were divorced?” Isabella offered. “It might just be a paperwork error.”

“But, Queenie! Killing sorcerers sounds like much more fun than storming this puny castle!”

Madalena considered it. It would make a nice birthday present for Gareth, and it might increase their territory. After all, the sorcerers did still control a few of the kingdoms to the South. “Alright. We’re in.”

“And you’ll fight alongside me, won’t you, Gal?” Richard begged. “I helped you try to raise an army to rescue Isabella--although it turns out she didn’t need rescuing--so it’s your turn to help me. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Galavant sighed. “Isabella? What do you want?”

Isabella squinted as she thought about it. She wouldn’t have to return to Hortensia, she wouldn’t have to give up fighting, she could test out what a relationship with Galavant would be like without living under the burden of secrecy and lies . . . and she could keep questing with her current team. Maybe Madalena wasn’t the worst thing ever. “Alright. Let’s do this.”


End file.
